


Felony

by Tah the Trickster (TahTheTrickster)



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/F, Humor, Silly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-20
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-05-02 11:38:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5246885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TahTheTrickster/pseuds/Tah%20the%20Trickster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Weiss answers a personal ad for an intentionally-grating Thanksgiving date. Shenanigans ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The personal listing in the paper was almost more than Weiss could’ve hoped for.

The title:  _Alone on Thanksgiving? Mad at your dad?_  That alone was enough for Weiss to tap the listing on her tablet. Anything that required the prerequisite that one was angry at their father was sure to be a riot.

She wasn’t wrong. The person making the listing claimed to be 25, a high school dropout, a felon, and living in a van painted like Zakk Wylde’s guitar—all within the first sentence. Weiss’ interest was piqued. The listing went on to add that, for no cost other than the Thanksgiving meal they’d receive, the person was willing to pretend to be in a serious, long-term relationship with anyone. The person also offered to pretend to be drunk, openly hit on other women, start shit with politics or religion, and start a legitimate physical fight with a family member.

Weiss leaned back in her bed and closed her eyes, considering. She could just see the horror on her father’s face for Weiss to bring someone like that home for Thanksgiving. And she’d pay real money to see somebody pick a fight with her aunt Blanche, particularly out on the lawn where all the neighbors could see the scene. And Winter would likely be mortified at the fact that they lived out of a van, let alone one as tacky as Zakk Wylde’s guitar.

That settled it, then. She sent an email to the lister, one Yang Xiao Long.

Yang was surprisingly cordial, given their evident background. They greeted Weiss politely and asked if she had a preference in dress between “inappropriate band tee and jeans” or “straight-up biker gang member.” Weiss smiled and inquired whether a mix of the two would be possible.

“Certainly,” Yang assured her. “Leather pants and shirt with a naked nun on it sound okay?”

That was perfect. Weiss passed along her apartment address and requested that Yang come by and pick her up to take them both to the Thanksgiving dinner at her father’s mansion. Yang agreed, saying that it would add legitimacy.

With her Thanksgiving plans now settled, Weiss put her tablet away and smirked at the ceiling. Hopefully this Yang character could keep up the act. If they could, it would probably wind up being her favorite Thanksgiving dinner to date.


	2. Chapter 2

The day of the dinner, Weiss received another email from Yang to double-check the address. Weiss confirmed it, and within thirty minutes the appropriately tacky van was in her apartment's lot. Weiss smoothed out the front of her immaculate white peacoat and went down to greet her "date" for the evening.

Weiss was mildly surprised when a girl stepped out of the van—she'd been more expecting a man, though she was delighted even further now. That really would grate on her old-fashioned father's nerves. She was a devastatingly pretty girl, too. Blonde hair down to her waist, and built like a brick wall. True to her word, she was decked in boots and leather pants as well as the exact shirt she'd mentioned in their email exchanges and a pair of aviator sunglasses.

"You must be Yang," Weiss said, holding out a hand to shake. "I'm Weiss."

Yang gave her a broad, crooked smile and shook her hand. Strong grip, Weiss noticed. "Nice to meet you, Weiss." She lifted her sunglasses for a moment to give her a little wink. Her violet eyes were stunning, but Weiss only got a glimpse of them before the glasses descended again. "So, let's get this plan together on the ride over, c'mon." She helped Weiss up into the van, surprisingly gently, before going back around to get in, herself. "So I was thinking: we met at some dive bar, you drank me under the table, we woke up in Vegas with a marriage certificate and no memory of the event. Sound good?" She started up the van; it lurched out of the driveway.

Her matter-of-fact manner of speaking surprised a laugh out of Weiss. "I don't drink much," she admitted, "and I'm not sure I want to surprise them with an actual wife."

Yang nodded and grinned. "Fine, fine, girlfriend then." She patted Weiss' hand politely. "So—we met at a tattoo parlor and got matching tattoos."

Weiss chuckled. This would be fun after all. "What if they ask to see them? Make a left up here."

"I'll start unbuttoning my pants and you can stop me," Yang offered. Weiss laughed aloud again. Oh, this was going to be _very_ fun. "Sound good? Awesome. This'll be fun. How's the food at these shindigs usually? Good?"

"You'll be well-fed," Weiss assured her with a smile.

"Awesome!"

At Yang's dangerously high speeds and Weiss' hasty direction-giving, they reached the Schnee manor in only fifteen minutes—a fairly impressive pace, as the drive usually took Weiss closer to twenty-five. Yang let out a low whistle. "This is where you're from?" she asked. Weiss simply nodded, hoping against hope that she wouldn't ask further. "Huh," Yang said. "So, should I start a fight out on the lawn so all the neighbors can see? Because this would probably be the nicest lawn I've picked a fight on before."

"Please," Weiss said with a smile. "I'm hoping that they'll stop inviting me over for Thanksgiving after today."

Yang gave her a lopsided grin and cut the van's power. "Oh, I can do that princess. But I _am_ going to eat first in case we get kicked out early." She got out of the van and walked around to help Weiss out as well.

Weiss didn't bother knocking—she never did; it was her family's house after all—and caught the butler off-guard when the front door swung open. The poor man turned three shades paler at the sight of the towering woman behind me.

"Miss Schnee," he greeted warily, keeping his wide eyes trained on Yang behind me. "And you must be Miss Weiss'... friend?" There was a hopeful edge to his voice.

Yang strolled in front of me and fist-bumped the butler's limply outstretched hand, grinning broadly all the while. "Girlfriend, actually! Yang Xiao Long, nice to meet you. The princess and I have been an item for a while, y'know." He couldn't have looked more dismayed if snakes began to manifest physically in his home.

"I—I see," he said numbly. Then he straightened up, evidently recalling his duties. "Right this way, then, Miss Schnee and Miss... Xiao Long." It looked like it physically pained him to refer to her as a miss. Yang and Weiss exchanged a grin when he turned to lead them into the parlor.

"Master Alabaster," the butler greeted as he reached the doorway. "Miss Weiss and her... _partner_ have arrived."

" _Partner?_ "

Weiss felt certain that she would relish the look of unbridled mortification on her father's face for years to come.

"'Sup!" Yang crowed behind me. Weiss glanced back in time to see her remove her sunglasses and hang them on her shirt collar between her breasts. "Name's Yang Xiao Long! You must be Mister Schnee, I've heard a metric fuck-ton about ya!" The swearword hit Weiss' family like a hammer; they all flinched in near-unison. Weiss was delighted.

"Yes, well," my father said, giving her a look of scarcely concealed contempt. "I can't say I've heard the same." He tried to compose himself, gesturing politely towards the couch Winter was sitting on. She looked shell-shocked. "Please, have a seat."

Yang flopped back into the couch next to Winter and propped a booted foot up on the coffee table. She glanced sidelong at my sister and winked. "Hey, gorgeous. Looks run in the family, eh?"

Winter looked absolutely scandalized. She didn't give Yang the benefit of a response.

"Please," Alabaster said through gritted teeth, "do not put your feet on the table. It's an _antique_."

"Huh?" Yang said eloquently. She glanced down and moved her foot. "Oh, my bad, dude."

His eye twitched just barely. "Mr. Schnee, if you don't mind."

"No worries, I don't mind, man," she said with a winning smile. Weiss bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. My father merely ground his teeth and sat down in his chair again, shoulders squared and feet planted firmly. He was already mad. This was perfect.

"So... _Yang_ ," he said, nearly spitting her name out. "How did you come to meet my daughter?"

With a wicked grin, Yang launched into a surprisingly cohesive story of how they met at a bar and made the decision to go out on a date together. She went on to describe their "first date" at a club she bartended at, followed by the decision that they were obviously made for each other, and thus they went to get matching tattoos to commemorate the occasion. Alabaster's eyes grew wider and wider as she went on, his face growing ashen.

"Matching... tattoos," he echoed as though he'd never considered the concept.

"Yeah, check it out," Yang said proudly. She got to her feet and went to undo the zipper of her pants. Alabaster and Winter gave wordless shouts, raising their hands to block their view. Weiss' aunt, Blanche, physically recoiled.

Weiss just put her hand on Yang's bicep. "Yang, sweetie, not here," she said, unable to hide her grin.

"I figured they'd want to see it," she said innocently, mischief glittering in her violet eyes.

"Not here," Weiss repeated, tugging Yang back down to the couch.

Yang just chuckled and plopped back down on the couch. She replaced her booted foot on the antique table.

"Have you no manners?" the elderly, scandalized Blanche demanded.

"I've got plenty of manners," Yang said, splaying her arms out on the back of the couch around both Weiss and Winter. Winter edged away from her with a look as though she'd stepped in something foul. "You'll see at dinner. Speaking of, when even is that? I'm _starving_."


End file.
